Page 23 of Solace in Seven
Twenty minutes later, I heard a knock on my door. “Yeah?” I called out.
“Everything good?” Hendrix asked.
My shoulders locked up. I’d been so caught up with a surprise second helping of bullshit from Omar that I hadn’t even gotten the chance to dissect the brief kiss that Hendrix and I shared in the club. My lips tingled with passion at the thought of it.
“The way you ran up outta there so fast, I figured I should come check on you,” he continued.
“Uh, yeah. I’m good. I’m fine.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I said, resting my palm against the cold door.
“Then, open the door and let me see you.”
My heart danced with butterflies as I quickly got in front of a mirror to confirm what my eyes already knew. I looked a mess. Mascara was smeared underneath my glossy-teared eyes, and both my makeup and edges were sweated out. “I, uh?—”
“Open the door,” he demanded.
His paralyzing, baritone voice set my lungs on fire as I walked back over to the door and obliged him. The second his eyes pinned on mine; I was completely disarmed. There was no need in letting my heart get in the way of what my head already knew. If he could make me feel like I was breathing underwater with just a look, I wouldn’t be able to handle anything else he had to offer. He was a hazard to my health.
“You got some bad news or somethin’?”
“Why do you ask?”
“I saw you pacing back and forth outside the club on your phone. By the time I came out to check on you, you were gone.”
I shook my head, putting his suspicions to rest. “No. I was uh, on the phone with my ex.”
He bobbed his head before running his hand down his beard. “Mmm, I figured it was nigga problems.”
My teeth clicked together with an attitude, shifting the energy in the room from somber to defensive. “Why you say it like that?”
“I’m a smart nigga, Cass. Plus, you not as lowkey with your feeling as you think you are. More importantly, I know a bad bitch when I see one, so why you lettin’ a nigga treat you like you anything but?”
I wrinkled my nose at him. “You don’t even know what he did.”
“It don’t matter. The nigga ain’t here, right? So, he old news in my book,” he said, stepping inside my room and making himself comfortable at the foot of my messy bed.
I massaged my stiff neck with my index finger before pushing a sigh past my lips. “You don’t get it. I’ve always had to prove myself. Whether it’s in the boardroom or the bedroom. Shit is different for people like you. There are people lined up waiting to give you anything you want. Whereas somebody like me has to beg and fight for a nigga to treat me right and to be seen.”
“I’ve always seen you,” he admitted.
My drifting eyes flashed up to meet his. “What did you just say?”
“You heard me.”
My head shook in protest. “No, I don’t think I did.”
“The way you glow whenever you talk about something you’re passionate about, or the sexy way you move your body to music, the way your eyes glisten when you’re lost in thought. You don’t even know you’re the fuckin’ center of attention to every nigga within a few feet of your presence. I see everything about you. And if I’m bein’ honest, I always have.”
I could feel my cheeks burning. As bad as I wanted to sink into the floor, I couldn’t move. A sudden paralysis overcame me from the roots of my scalp to the soles of my feet. His words had rendered a bitch completely speechless.
“I—I don’t know what to say... I don’t think I’ve ever really been seen before...by anyone,” I acknowledged.
“Well, I’ll say this, you got all my attention,” he said, biting down on his sexy ass bottom lip.
I felt a knot as large as a melon lodged in my throat. I was usually quick on my feet but his confession had me off balance. Had Isuddenly been transported to an alternate universe where Hendrix and I actually enjoyed one another’s company?
